


Three Times Richard Was Jealous of Inanimate Objects...

by AngeRabbit



Category: Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Ficlets, M/M, PWP, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 10:32:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/673408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeRabbit/pseuds/AngeRabbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...and One Time He Was Not.  Does what it says on the tin, frankly...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Times Richard Was Jealous of Inanimate Objects...

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ on 31/03/2008.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** This has never, and will never, happen. It's all in my head. One day I shall climb inside there and live with all the slashy happenings. Fo shizzle.

**I**

Those hands. Those hands that keep him awake at night, and make him lose himself in daydreams at the most unexpected and inconvenient moments. 

Like now.

He watched the long, slender fingers curling around the head of the gear-stick, caressing the top of the shaft as they changed gear. Glanced surreptitiously as the hand transferred back to the wheel, fluttering softly over the material until the fingers found their proper place. Focused on those same fingers moving to play with indicators, radio dials, heat controls; drumming against the wheel in time to the classical music flowing through the spaces between the two passengers.

Those hands should be caressing him, not some bloody car! They should be exploring the dips and curves of his body. Tracing along his collarbone, softly floating along his chest, falling ever lower to his groin - 

Richard shifted uncomfortably in his seat as James cleared his throat, keen to break the silence.

"Penny for your thoughts, Hammond?"

******************************

**II**

A pipe. It's just a fucking pipe, get a grip of yourself. Stop staring at the way he's holding it in his hands, turning it over with such infinite care. Stop looking at the way the mouthpiece settles comfortably between his soft lips. Stop imagining it's the head of your cock gently nudging its way inside his mouth. Stop being so captivated by the slight flickering of his tongue around the wood. Stop picturing your hands on the back of May's head, urging him to take you deeper...

Richard is eternally grateful that Jeremy chooses that exact moment to burn his tongue.

******************************

**III**

"For god's sake May, brush your bloody hair! Try and look half decent in front of the cameras." Jeremy thrust a small plastic comb at him in exasperation.

"My fingers have always sufficed before, Clarkson." He snatched the proffered item out of Jeremy's hands and began to rake it sulkily through his long waves. "And I suppose you're on his side as well, Hamster?"

My fingers, pushing those curls back from his neck, tracing along the soft skin. My hands buried deep in his gorgeous thick hair, pulling on it as I move in for a kiss...

Richard folded his arms and looked at the floor, trying to appear nonchalant. "I think combs are over-rated, myself."

******************************

**IV**

"How the hell did you manage to get your bracelet caught in my jumper, Hammond?!"

"It's not a fucking bracelet, you cheeky sod! It's a – it's a...well never mind that now! All I know is I'm attached to this stripy monstrosity of yours!" Richard tugged his arm, trying to free himself from the sleeve of James' jumper.

"Don't pull on it like that! You'll put a hole in it! Look. Come here, you need to stand closer to me you idiot! It needs to be slack, rather than you pulling it tight and making it worse!"

"I'm an idiot?! What kind of prat wears a jumper like this in 2008, unless they're auditioning for the film version of Where's Wally?!" Richard bowed his head, feeling his hair brushing against James' chest as he concentrated on trying to free the clasp from the material. James' warm breath played across the back of his neck, and a sudden stillness passed over the two of them. He found himself rubbing the jumper's soft material between his fingers, suddenly shy.

"Richard." The word was barely audible; he'd never heard his own name used as both a question and a statement before. He felt a gentle hand on his chin, tipping up his head. As their eyes met, James leant forward and kissed him, lips softly moving against his own. Richard grabbed hold of James' waist, clutching his jumper, fisting the material in his hand as he fell into the kiss. He was aware of James' arm wrapping around him, pulling him closer, and he sighed with contentment.

James broke away first. "Do you really hate my jumper?" He felt a soft chuckling against his shoulder.

"Not right now I don't. In fact, it's growing on me surprisingly quickly. But you are going to have to take it off in a minute."

"You're right, it's probably the only way we're going to untangle your bracelet."

"It's not a bracelet! And that's not the reason I want you to take it off."

James was about to ask what other reason there could possibly be when he felt a hand snaking down his back and onto his arse.

"Let's get you out of this old thing, shall we? I'd hate to put a hole in it."

******************************


End file.
